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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29716911">This is not Living</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/September_LostStarDust/pseuds/September_LostStarDust'>September_LostStarDust</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Creepypasta - Fandom, Marble Hornets, Slender Man (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Creepypasta, Death, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending?, Horror, Kidnapping, Killing, Love, Maybe - Freeform, More to tag, Murder, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Slowish updates, Smut, Stalking, Violence, Yandere, Yikes, mature - Freeform, x Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:28:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,481</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29716911</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/September_LostStarDust/pseuds/September_LostStarDust</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m going to kill you. Then I’m running the hell away from here, you sick bastard.” I was sure of this, so very sure. He let out the faintest of laughs that sent a chill down my spine. </p>
<p>“Oh. Really, are you now? Because.... from the way I’m standing,” he pulled back the cover. “You won’t be able to.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I walked briskly through the surrounding trees, eager to get to my usual spot and capturing images of the beautiful area. Though that would be an understatement, this forest goes on for miles; the further you go, the darker and denser it gets, hence why I've only gone a mile in. My eyes lit up as I reached the small clearing I'd discovered long ago. My footsteps slowed slightly as I'd finally reached my destination. Tall redwood trees tower above me, looking as though if they were touching the clouds. Birds flew through the dense trees, making their home on the thick branches. Up ahead, a river stream flowed throughout the quiet forest, the sound relaxing my mind as I gently slid the (F/C) backpack off my right shoulder before crouching down and unzipping it, taking out my black Canon EOS camera. I messed with the lens and such before finally preparing myself for the day ahead. </p><p>By the end of the third hour, I'd taken a reasonable number of photos and now felt satisfied for the day. I strolled back slowly towards the clearing, mentality going over all of what I'd managed to capture. Trees and insects, birds, and waterfalls. The thought of them brought a smile upon my face as my mood was lifted high, that is until I reached back to the clearing. My brows scrunched up as I look at my backpack, its contents now laid and sprawled across the lush green floor. I swiftly moved over towards my belongings, making sure all were accounted for. I checked and double-checked, but nothing seemed to be missing. "Damn raccoons." I shake my head with a sigh putting the items back in their bag. Swinging the heavy bag over my shoulder I make my way out of the woods.</p><p>— One hour later —</p><p>I sat impatiently at one of the booths closest to the window, tapping my index finger against the surface of the freshly wiped table with a bored expression on my face. After nearly five minutes of waiting, the small bell above the main door chimed, signaling someone had just entered the little shop. My eyes darted up quickly as I tried to contain the unamused look that was on my face. I failed, however, as my fiancé took a seat opposite me. A slight smile crept its way onto my red lips before I could even control it. </p><p> </p><p>He laughed heartily and began his excuse on why he was late. It was a few moments before I stood to order our drinks. I strolled to the counter, asking for the same thing the two of us had ordered for the past year without fail—a black coffee for him and a cappuccino for me. As the man behind the counter began to type something into the register, I pulled out my purse and opened it quickly. Pulling out a twenty-dollar bill, handing it to the cashier, it was only when I went to put the change back into the said purse that I noticed it. </p><p>The picture of Derek and I was missing. It had been in my purse for the last 2 years, so there's no way I took it out. Memories of my bag being left open and its contents spread across the forest floor crossed my mind. My heart sank as the realization hit me; someone must have taken the photo. I quickly grabbed the two coffee cups off the counter and thanked the man, walking back over to Derek quickly, telling him about my missing photograph; of course, he didn't believe me. "I'm sure you just misplaced it!" He assured me for the fifth time, I sighed and leaned back against my seat, knowing there was no changing his mind on this.</p><p>My eyes glanced over to the silver ring on my finger, a small smile curled its way to my lips. A larger hand was then placed on mine, giving it a light squeeze. I brought my attention up to Derek who looked at me with a gentle smile. "Not long you know." He says, bringing my hand up and kissing my knuckles. "Only six months left till you're my wife." I laugh at that, slipping my hand away from his face, propping my chin on the palm of my hand. The thought was a strange one. That in only six months, I'll soon be known as Mrs. (Y/N) Thomson, just thinking about it felt...weird; in a good way, of course. Me walking down the aisle, in a beautiful white dress with Derek at the altar. Every now and then, I'll pinch myself, waiting to wake up and all of this to be a dream. But I won't wake up as this is actually happening. I know it sounds cliché, like some Hollywood romance movie bullcrap.</p><p>We've been together for three years. I met him at a business firm where we worked. I was a personal secretary for him while he was director of business lending. He was stupidly smart but also a significant arse at times. I remember hating him so much that it sort of drawled me closer to him because of it. Straight out of some rubbish hallmark movie, I know. He would continuously get of my nerves, yell in my ear that I wasn't doing my work correctly, that I was three minutes late or that I didn't look presentable enough. One time, I remember him coming up to the front desk, slamming his hand down next to me, making me jump in my chair while he pointed to the time on his wrist.</p><p> </p><p>"You're ten minutes late. Why is that?" Traffic. It was the truth. I was stuck in a cab before throwing the driver whatever was left of the cash in my bag and leaving, running as fast as possible in high heels along the standstill road just to get to my job. His response? "Next time, wake up earlier, so you're not late." God, was I pissed, but I couldn't do anything about it either. I hated the job, and I disliked the man I had to work with. Admittedly, there were times where I just thought of quitting, but that wasn't much of a choice. Aside from that, I needed the money. I couldn't go back to living with my mother; that thought alone wanted me to drown myself. </p><p>Paying off school debt, food, and utility bills, all my money was flying out the window, along with my dream. I hardly had the time to focus on what I wanted really wanted to do — freelance photography.</p><p>There was another time where he really set me over the edge. He had me grab him a coffee. Not the one in the break room but from the coffee shop three and a half blocks away. I sat the coffee down on his desk, forcing a smile on my face. I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought of throwing him against the wall a few times. As I turned away, he spoke from his desk. "Quit that hobby of yous," He said. "What you're doing right now is meaningless" I stopped in my footsteps, looking straight ahead of me. His reflection in the mirror was watching me as I gripped the hem of my pencil skirt. "You're constantly late for work, wearing the same three outfits every other day, and live in an unsafe area where the drug, crime, and rape crimes are high." He continued.</p><p>I could barely get out any words, "You- you don't understand." I didn't turn around to face him. I just look at him through the mirror. He put up a hand to stop me. "No, you don't understand. I know you're paying off some type of debt. If I were to put down $100,00 on the table right now, you wouldn't be saying that would you?" I remember that honest look he gave me like he didn't give a shit about what he just said. Turning, I grabbed the hot coffee from his desk and threw it before stomping out of his office and out of the building. It's some type of miracle that I wasn't fired that day. (Or thrown in jail for possible assault) </p><p> </p><p>How we ended up being happily engaged is beyond me. After I stormed out, Derek later called to apologize and catch up on a few things; he was more a bit more lenient after that. I didn't let our past rivalry taint my newfound opinion of the man, and I don't hold his past actions against him. As far as I'm concerned, the past isn't in the past, it all happened for a reason, and I couldn't be happier because of it.</p><p>"Only six months left till you're my husband." I reached over the small table, my lips connecting with his own in a soft kiss. The stubble of his jaw tickled; I could feel his lips pull into a smirk as his tongue grazed my bottom bit. The earthy pine scent of his aftershave ran shivers down my spine. That was something I couldn't live without. Pulling away, Derek put one last kiss onto my cheek, giving me a one dimple smile. </p><p>"I love you."</p><p>I smiled, this really was the man of my dreams, and nothing would be able to take that feeling away from me. "I love you more."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello readers! I hope you'll enjoy the story, I have a bit in mind of what I have planned for it and I'm excited for you to read it. This is my first-time posts on Ao3 so if anythings off I'd love to know so I can fix it :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As soon as we got home, I went to the bathroom for a much-needed shower. I was horribly grungy; dirt was in my hair, under my fingernails, and on parts of my exposed skin. Grass strains mark my clothing. I even found a few blades in my hair. Awesome.</p><p>Turning on the hot water, trying to fill in the cold air, I strip off my clothing, throwing them into a small pile in a corner. Stepping under the water, a sigh of relief leaves my lips. I rub my tense and aching muscle as I stood under the scorching hot water, my skin slowly turning a light shade of red. It felt like bathing in lava. But God did it feel nice. Besides being in the tranquil forest, the shower was my happy place. There was nothing I loved more than getting clean after a long day. Being able to scrub the filth from your body and just relax. Maybe even get into something cozy and watch a flick on the television. </p><p> </p><p>After washing my hair out with shampoo and conditioner, I start to lather my body with coconut scented body wash. I was so caught up with what I was doing that I hardly noticed the bathroom door open. Through the foggy glass, I could see a figure; they took off their clothing, throwing them onto the floor next to mine. The door opens as a gust of cold air hits my bare body, sending a shiver to crawl up my spine. I try to stand under the water more, covering my exposed bits with soapy hands while attempting to savor any heat that'll warm me back up. </p><p>"Jesus, it's like a damn sauna in here."</p><p>I laugh at that, the suds of soap washing away from my body and running down the drain. Reaching out, I tug at Derek, pulling him under the water with me. He grins, leaning down, trailing kisses on my neck, and slowly going down further to my breasts. My hands ring themselves through his hair, gripping onto locks of it as he continued to leave trails of kisses. My back arches into his as it finds the cool, wet tiles. "I love you." He says, delicately cupping my cheek, leaving another kiss on my lips. Leaning into him, my arms snaked themselves around his neck. "I love you too, so much." His face buries itself in the crook of my neck, kissing and sucking at parts that have me grip onto his shoulders. "Christ- yeah, right there," I huff as his knee parts my leg, hicking me up a little in my sweet spot. One of his hands finds the back of my head, his fingers running through my hair while the other cups my arse cheek, giving it a light squeeze. "God- you're beautiful." He leans back, hand leaving the back of my head and cupping my cheek. I stared into his icy blue eyes while he stares into my (E/C) ones. I don't say anything to his words but snake my hand away from his shoulder, slipping it down the base of his stomach and to his inner thigh. "Shit, (Y/N)...." He grunts, his hand on my arse cheek going tighter. "Keep still," I whisper in between kissing down his chest. </p><p> </p><p>{~~*~~}</p><p> </p><p>With muffled footsteps, I silently through the hallway, holding a towel around my body tightly. Opening the bedroom door, Derek sat comfortably on our bed wearing nothing more than a pair of plaid boxer shorts, his hair still damp as he a book; Lolita, I think. "How's your book?" I ask, dropping the towel to the floor and swapping into one of Derek's shirts. </p><p>"It's good." He says, glancing up from the book. "Sick, though." </p><p>"Yeah? You think I'd like it?" </p><p>"No," he laughs. "Not by a long shot." He took a glance my way smiling warmly before returning his attention back to his book while I read various things on my phone. New's articles, replying to emails, sorting out wedding arrangements. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm working late tomorrow," Derek reminds. Casting a quick glance, I nod. "Alright, want me to wait for you for dinner or?"</p><p>"Nah, Don't wait for me. No idea when I'll be back. I'll just get something on my way back." I felt him place a small kiss on top of my head, having a smile to prick at my lips. Laughing, Derek is quick to return the kiss, leaning in deeper and placing a hand to the back of my head. Wrapping my legs around his waist, we soon get lost in a tangle of limbs and giggles. His hand slowly crawl down my waist while another finds my thigh. Unwillingly, I pulled from the kiss and held his head in my palms, thumb gently grazing over the stubble that sits on his cheeks. Catching our breaths, I pull him further into me, his face nestled into the crook of my shoulder while fingers rake his back in circles. </p><p> </p><p>*knock, knock* </p><p> </p><p>The sound has both of us jump in surprise. Derek looks down at me while I look up at him, wordlessly asking each other if we heard the same thing. For a moment, it's quiet, ears straining to hear anything out of the ordinary. Derek must've heard something because one second he's on me, and the next he's at the window, pulling back the curtain and cupping his face to the glass.</p><p>"It must have been a branch," he mumbles to himself. I grasped the blanket and pulled it close to me, not at all convinced. 'Don't be stupid (Y/N), we're two stories high...' </p><p>Derek huffed out a long sigh, quickly laying back down, leaning in once again, but I pushed him away. "I'm not in the mood anymore," I sigh, causing him to put on an overly exaggerated sad face. Rolling my eyes, I chuck a pillow at him, something he catches with ease. "G'night." I peck at his chin. "Night." He says before drowning our room in darkness.</p><p> </p><p>{~~*~~}</p><p> </p><p>"What will you be doing today?" Derek asked from his place at the kitchen table as he took a sip of his coffee. He dressed in casual business attire—a deep blue undershirt matching a black suit jacket and slacks with a white tie pulling it all off. Selfishly, a part of me just wants to rip it off then and there.</p><p>"Oh, you know, a little bit of this and a little bit of that." </p><p>"Sounds exciting" He sips on his coffee. </p><p>"I'll probably go take some more photos if I have the time. I've got an appointment with a catering company later today." He raised a brow before shrugging. Derek is more of a maths and numbers kind of guy; he could never see the beauty in art and photography. I didn't mind, though. He supported me all the way with what I wanted to do. Hell, he even helped me with it by giving me a newer camera and lens.</p><p>Glancing at his watch he stood abruptly, grabbing his bag and wishing me a goodbye. I hummed as the front door opened then closed. Standing in the empty kitchen, I dump whatever dregs of coffee are left in the mug and start off with my day.</p><p> </p><p>The forest was beautiful this time of the morning. The sun still rising off into the distance, causing an amber light to shine through the branches of the towering trees. Birds flew past my head, chirping away, squirrels ran up and down trees and in the shrubs. The gravel crunched and cracked with every step I took.</p><p>Deeper into the trail, the trees steadily grew thicker, the warm amber glow dimming with thicking branches. The once caretaken nature trail takes a turn to disappear with its natural root displaying wherever it felt like. I duck and step over the various branches the more I walk, only noticing the gravel had been replaced with rich soil. Breaking through a small clearing, a chill wind danced through the field, pushing and twisting the land into a sea of various evergreen. The wind would rattle and shake the thick leaves, sometimes falling loose and float down to its ground. </p><p> </p><p>Soon a bird came flying by, landing on a branch hardly 10 feet from me. It hopped and skipped from rach to branch, digging its small head under its wing while letting out the occasional chirp. Being quiet as I can, I crouch as low to the floor, slowly bringing my camera up to my eye. "Common sparrow, stop moving, would ya?" The bugger was quick to move. It'd jump from the floor to a low branch, then somewhere high above a tree. Most of the photos taken are of the damn thing, either too blurry or not in the shot. What felt like ages, the sparrow finally stops moving, staring just past me almost entirely. Just as I'm lining up the shot, a twig breaks off in the distance, sending the sparrow to fly away. </p><p> </p><p>"Damn it." Twisting over my shoulder, I peer around the grounds, trying to sight off anything that might have spooked the bird. Nada. </p><p>With a grunt and some colourful words parting my lips, I scan the area one more time before heading the way I came from. </p><p>The sound of dried leaves and dead twigs crunch with every footfall, but they aren't mine. I'm almost sure of it. When I stop, the sound continues for a moment before quitting, almost like another pair of feet. Gazing behind me once again, I squint for any sign of....well, anything. But there's nothing to be soon other than tall trees and lush flowers. It's an animal, I tell myself. Or another person taking a hike, these grounds are standard for an off-trail hike. The sound of footsteps became louder, quicker too. I don't know what the hell I'm just doing standing here and not immediately turning away. It's like my feet are one with the ground. Thankfully, a smarter part of my brain kicked in and unrooted me, taking a few steps back before turning on heel and going into a light spring. Crunches grew louder, quicker, a heavy breath now sounding out. My heart thumps in my chest, eyes peering to the side only to see a person run at me. Bitting my though from a yell, I watch them come more into view. </p><p> </p><p>For a second, we bump shoulders, they turn mumbling out a quick sorry before running right past me onto the original nature trail. </p><p> Slowing down to a stop Shaking my head at my own stupidity, I calm down. Watching the jogger run ahead while I calm down my racing heart. Unreal.</p><p> </p><p>Breaking into the original walkway, I look at the familiar surroundings. People walking their dogs, runners, and joggers passing me from where I just came, cyclists zipping right by me onto a wooden pathway. Brushing stray hairs from my eyes, I tug the camera over my shoulder after giving the trees one last look.</p><p> </p><p>The drive home wasn't all that exciting, with long lines of traffic clogging up the motorway. Car horns blast from every direction. It's not going to make the traffic move any faster, I want to say. Fingers drumming the steering wheel, I think back on this morning's walk—a small nagging feeling eating away like a worm inside my head. I almost want to slap myself for it. Mum being off her shits was never a great help either, the woman was petrified of anything happening to her or me. Snapping myself out from those thoughts, I watch the standstill traffic, cars moving only an inch every few minutes. Reaching over from the driver's side, I dig around my bag trying to find my phone. Punching in Derek's contact I listen for the small rings till it picks up.</p><p>"Hey.</p><p>"Hey to you too." The sound of the clickety-clack of his keyboard fills the moment of silence.</p><p>"Have any idea when you'll be home? I'll cook tonight, maybe have some wine and watch telly." </p><p>He doesn't respond for a good few seconds, instead mumbling words and numbers under his breath. </p><p>"What? I'm sorry, I'm up to my neck in papers, then two-no, three meetings later today. Uh, I'll try my hardest to be home by nine. Don't bother cooking, why not takeout instead? Chinse sounds good to me."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, sounds good." There must've been a tone to my voice that I hadn't noticed because the clicking of his keyboard comes to a stop. </p><p>"Hey, you alright? I can come sooner if-"</p><p>"No." I cut him off. "No, sorry, I just... I'm thinkin' is all."</p><p>"Careful with that." his tone is playful but soon goes back to being serious. "Seriously though, what's wrong."</p><p>"Nothing." Really nothing was wrong....although... "Just thinking about my mum, s'all." </p><p>"Oh." </p><p>"Hm."</p><p>Derek wasn't the biggest fan of my mother, and that's putting it lightly. He just about tolerated her for my sake. </p><p>"She talk with you?"</p><p>"Yeah, a bit. Just catching up."</p><p>"Good, good. Hey, I'm really sorry, but I've got to get going soon. We can talk more when I get back, okay? Love you."</p><p>I can hardly get a response in before the line cuts dead. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The man walked through the quiet, vacant street, his hood up, concealing his face and head down, taking extra precaution not to be seen. Finally reaching the house he had in mind, he jogged up the steps, grasping onto the doorknob, twisting it a few times. Locked. He knew it would be but wanted to make sure, just to see if anyone would be dumb enough to keep their doors unlocked. Made his job a hell of a lot easier if they were, though. But a locked door wasn't going to stop him, God no. Looking around his surrounding, the man took a few steps back, squatting down onto the floor and pulling away the welcome mat; nothing. It would be stupid to leave a key under the mat. It's the 21st-century, people aren't that naive.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He Searched the potted plants on either side of the door, checking in its leaves, dirt, and under the pot, but again nothing was to be found. The hooded man was starting to grow slightly irritated. HE only had a small window of time standing out here at someone's door. He was already cutting it short with time, not knowing when either of the couples would be coming home. Quickly and swiftly, he went back down the steps, picking up a rock, getting ready to throw it at a window, that is, until he notices something. Placing the rock back in its small pile, the male walked back towards the front door, leaning upon the tips of his toes whilst blindly searching the top lip of the door... got it.</p>
<p>He finally found the damn key, being right under his nose, or would it be above it? It didn't matter; he had it. Looking behind his back one last time, making sure no one was in sight before inserting the key into its hole. As the male pushed the door open, he paused, waiting for some type of alarm to start blaring out, alerting the police or locals of his presence, but nothing happened. He scoffed, homes without alarms were becoming rarer by the day, but this made his job a hell of a lot easier. Shutting the door, the man began his adventures through the house. It smelt sweet, like vanilla and honey. This, mixed with the pleasant warmth filling the house, gave an incredibly welcoming homely feel. So much so that he wished to be in it all day, soothing what was probably his black heart that thumped in his chest with every furthering adventuring step. It calmed his racing mind with the thoughts that ate away at him like the plague. A little bit of warmth in his cold heart. Though the warm feeling only lasted for a few seconds, however, as his nose picked up on something else. A different kind of sent that seemed to lingered in the air, he wasn't sure what it was, but it definitely didn't give off a warm feeling as just a few seconds ago.</p>
<p>Walking around a corner, he found the kitchen. In the middle sat a small island enough to seat four people, it being the divider from the living and cooking area. The kitchen sink held a few empty glasses and dirty plates with the remaining food stuck to them. The hooded male scrunched up his nose in disgust before promptly leaving the kitchen. The living room was nothing special. A decent-sized television mounted to the wall with an off-white sofa sitting in the middle, a brown coffee table standing not far from it, and a black bookshelf behind that stood full of various books. He paid no mind to this room and instead went off to explore another.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next he came across was a dark laundry room. EJ flicked the switch that was on the side of the wall, and the room filled with light instantly. The small room was nothing interesting, something that you would typically see: washer and dryer, sat cleaning supplies in the corner, a plastic basket toppled with clothing sitting on top of the dryer. EJ was about to turn away, seeing nothing of any importance, until....he caught sight of a pair of black and blue lace knickers. EJ didn't even think when he walked across the room, picking them up and examining them for a second before pressing the article of clothing against the nose of his mask. He inhaled deeply, causing him to let out a small hum as a small shiver of delight crept down his spine. 'Christ.' He felt more awake than before, like he had just been injected with amphetamines and was on small high. The corners of his chapped lips twisted upwards as he stashed the knickers into his worn-out trousers pocket before rummaging through the pile, finding the matching bra, and felt satisfied after turning on his heel, making his way back down the small hall. </p>
<p>There was nothing special he saw in the next room, spare room and a bathroom, both having no life to them, just the typical essentials. Paying hardly any mind, he sought out another. Opening the last door on the left, he finally saw the room he'd been looking for (Y/N) 's bedroom. Immediately he pulled open closet doors and drawers, ransacking the place but not noticeable enough to cause alarm. Closing everything once again, EJ sat on the side of the bed he knew was hers. The hooded male could practically see her now, sitting here, in this very spot, climbing over that man, kissing him, hugging him, laughing with him. The thought of it had something swell up inside of him.</p>
<p>Laying down on her pillow, he stared up at the ceiling, inhaling that sweet scent she gave off. He felt at ease, relaxed even, the man hadn't felt that way in….hell, he doesn't know how long it's been; almost too long. He could see it now, Y/N beneath EJ in his bed as he felt along the delicate parts of her body. He'd want to listen to the way she laughed or watch the way her nose bunched up whenever she thought of something. But mostly, he really, really wanted to touch her, to feel her, hold her, to fuck-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rolling his head to the side, his gaze caught something besides on the opposite nightstand—a photo of (Y/N) Derek, arms around each other, kissing with smiles on their faces. EJ stared at the photograph as anger poured through him. Sitting up abruptly in the bed, the male grabbed the photo frame in a white-knuckled grip before smashing it on the floor with full force.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>{~~*~~}</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Your POV</p>
<p>Derek juggled with three paper bags trying to unlock the front door. A bag rested on his knee as it propped itself up against the wooden door, the other two just about blanching in the crook of his arms while his hand attempted to reach into his backpacking, fishing out the key. I didn't help him, simply watching in bewilderment from behind with a single bag of groceries. </p>
<p>"You sure you don't need help?" I rest a hand on my hip, trying my hardest not to laugh. Derek shook his head and grunted in reply, finally fishing the key out of his pocket and into its hole before kicking the door open with his foot. "Nope." He smiles, already heading into the kitchen and unpacking all the food. "How was work?" I tear down the bag, lifting out eggs and frozen items. Derek runs a hand through his hair, a long sigh leaving his lips. "It's uh... I got a lot on my plate at the moment, you know?" Yeah, I knew. When I did work at the firm, I would catch him sleeping in his office. Some days I don't think he even left. It was like he lived there. Four days was his total number, four days of him being short-tempered, multiple coffee runs, and four days of me visiting his apartment to grab new clothing plus fetching his dry cleaning. The more that I think about it, I was more of a maid than a secretary. </p>
<p>Settling down the last item, I move over the counter to place a hand on his shoulder. "Anything I can do to help?" </p>
<p>"No. Don't worry though, I'll get it sorted out." His fingers run across my knuckles. "But how was your day? You didn't seem okay a few days ago though, everything alright?" </p>
<p>"It was okay. And everything's alright, I think." </p>
<p>"You think?" </p>
<p>"Yeah, there really isn't much to say about it. I've just been feeling...I don't know, weird? Does that make sense?" I can feel Derek trying to figure out the meaning behind my words, but truthfully, there's nothing to be figured out. </p>
<p>"I guess? But for real (Y/N), tell me if anything is bothering you, okay?" I let out a small hum as his lips press on top of my head. I don't know what I did to deserve a man like Derek, but I couldn't be happier. He was almost every woman's dirty wet dream. Speaking of dirty...</p>
<p>Derek laced his fingers at the top of my yoga waistband, slowly creeping down to cup one of my cheeks. "Don't," I giggle. "I still have to get some work done myself, you know." I twist my body around, the small of my back pressing my against the counter. "I'm not doing anything." A kiss on my cheek. </p>
<p>"Oh, are you now?" I grin, my hands pushing on his chest before ducking out from under his arms. "I am going to shower in peace, alone." You have to stretch words out for Derek. Otherwise, he'll keep going at it. The man is like a dog with a big juice bone. "Do the rest of the shopping, and please do not burn down the kitchen." I head to our room, hearing him call out: "You're no fun!" </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Leaving the bathroom with nothing but a towel, I whisk around the bedroom, putting on another one of Derek's shirts that swallowed me whole. In the distance, I can hear the television play a sports program, a string of curses leaving Derek's mouth as he yells at it. The shower had washed away the last few days, the paranoid feeling running down the drain with its soapy water to never resurface. The creeping of eyes had left, but the uneasiness still crept up behind me, like a heavy lump in my throat that I just couldn't swallow down. For the sake of it, I blame it on my mind playing a horrid trick on me, feeling as though something is there, but in reality, it isn't. Has...has anyone else felt like that? A feeling that chills you to the bone, a breath leaving your lungs, making you look over your shoulder only to find nothing—a ghost. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'm harshly pulled out of my thoughts when I yell, falling to the ground with a pitiful whine leave my lips. My eyes squeeze shut as I bite the inside of my cheeks, trying to focus on something else other than the shock. My head goes light. I can hardly hear out Derek calling for me.</p>
<p>"Derek?" I wince, putting my back to the frame of the bed. "Y/N? Are you okay in there?" A panic tone laces in his voice. His quick steps echo in the distance as he comes closer. "No, I'm not. Can you come here?" Derek throws open the door, just narrowly missing the wall. Immediately he's kneeling by my side, lifting me up by my arms to sit on the edge of the bed. "Christ Y/N, what did you do?" Both our gazes fall to bloody shards of glass And split wood on the floor that scattered around a broken picture frame of Derek and me. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I didn't do anything." I snapped. The air around us stilled in dead silence. Nothing was heard other than my worn breathing, which slowly followed a shuttering breath from me. "Fuck." My bottom lip wobbles. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Standing from his knelt position, Derek quickly leaves the bedroom and into the bathroom. Not two minutes later, he comes back with a small blue bag kneeling by my side again. Carefully, he placed my bloodied foot onto his knee, getting his trousers dirty. "Here," he says, grabbing a small white packet, tearing open the seam with his teeth. "Take two of these; it'll help with the discomfort." Nodding idly, I swallow the two pills dry. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Leaning back, I let myself fall into the Mattress as Derek goes around to help my foot. A dull throbbing goes around at the bottom of my foot as Derek holds a pair of tweezers and a reddish cotton pad in his hand. "There's not much glass embedded in your foot, which is good." He says, going silent for a minute before speaking again. "How....what happened?" He lifted his eyes up. "I stepped on glass? What else do I say to that." Propping myself up on my elbows, I watch as Derek sloppily wrap the white bandage around my foot. "I didn't knock it over if that's what you're saying. It was already smashed when I trod on it." Though it sounds stupid when I say it aloud.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Alright, all done." Derek stands up, taking a seat next to where my head lays. "How're you feeling?" Twisting my head to face him, I purse my lips. "I really liked that frame, y'know." Smiling, Derek shakes his head before placing a light kiss on the center of my forehead. We stare at each other in silence until...the smell of smoke drifted through the house. Derek's face fell down into confusion for a split moment before shock had taken over. "Shit, shit, shit, shit!" He bolted up, dashing out of the bedroom with a fiery list of curses. Several minutes went by till he sheepishly walked back into the room holding a phone to his ear while leaning on the door, asking: "So, what do you want on your pizza?"</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. Every day feels longer than the last. It's been almost two full months of a looming feeling washing over me in waves. I sense them wherever I go; even in my own damn home, I feel them. The solemn gaze I feel builds up in my chest comes and goes, some days better than others. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Though the feeling stirs in my chest once again, I lick my lips and bring my gaze up to the woman who sits in front of me. Her long caramel legs are crossed over one another. Black curls done up in a neat bun that matches her equally dark eyes that hide behind a nice pair of red-framed glasses resting on the bridge of her button nose. Doctor Naomi Foster, my therapist. She was a kind woman, with a lovely accent that I just couldn't quite place where from. The room we sit in is homely, a window to the right with its brown curtain drawn back, a thin carpet flooring the whole room, a brown sofa I sit on with a pillow pressed behind my back while Naomi sits across from me in a deep burgundy leather chair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Derek was the one who had found her for me. I used to have a therapist back when I had recently moved out of my mother's claws. Though those sessions hardly lasted three months before I quit. The payments were staking up, and I didn't enjoy my time there. Kinda like how I am now.</p>
<p>"Y/N, are you with me?" It takes her another call of my name to bring me out of my blank thoughts.</p>
<p>Blinking one, two, three times before slowly nodding my head. "Yeah, I'm uh, I'm with you." She can smell my lie from a mile away but doesn't mention it. Crossing one leg other the other, she curls her lips into a light smile, showing a perfect set of pearly white teeth. "Tell me, how have you been feeling as of late?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Um..." I close my eyes and think for a moment. "Good? I don't know what to say, really. I've been better, though."</p>
<p>We sit in silence for a moment, the ticking of the clock filling up the room. She stares are me, her clipboard, then at her watch, then back to me. I can hardly hold eye contact for the first two minutes with her. Instead, my eyes follow the room, fingers drumming agents my thigh and looking at the faint racks that his along the walls or ceiling. I detested the moments where no one said anything. It made for a thick feeling in the air that should be broken. In some instances, I enjoyed the silence, but this, right now? Horrible. "I guess...I feel heavy in a way. A weight sitting on my shoulders that I don't know what to do with." Pausing only for a second. "Why is that?" </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Well," she says, taking her red glasses off and placing them on a small wooden table next to her. "It can come down to childhood. You said that your mother hovered over you as a child? The constant feeling of being watched as a child manifests into the same feeling once we are older, even if that same person isn't around. It's how our mind plays tricks on us, replaying a certain memory from deep in our subconscious that eventually surfs its way to the top. Even when we don't want it to."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> Licking my dry lips, I rub the bridge of my nose while pinching my eyes closed. "She's coming to my wedding, my Mum. I don't know if that's a bad thing or...." </p>
<p>"Or?"</p>
<p>"Or, that I don't know what's going to happen when she gets there. I love her, I do, really, but she makes me doubt myself. It makes me think, 'is this what I want in life?' is this the way I want to be living. It is, though. I know it is. I've got what I want in life. I'm happy where I am."</p>
<p>"You say you love your mother, but who are you trying to convince here? Me or yourself?" </p>
<p>It's a question I reflect on for a while. I love her, I know I do, I have to because, well, she's my mother. The one who raised me in her stomach for nine months, induced hours of pain to bring me into this world. Gave me a roof over my head, clothing on my back, and food in my stomach. What do I have to be ungrateful for?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A lot. My mind echos. I felt like a bird stuck in a cage.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I don't know." Honestly, truly. I didn't know. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Doctor Foster nods her head, writing something down in a little brown book. "Well, this is all the time we have left. I see a lot of progress in you Y/N, you're doing good. I won't be available for our weekly Thursday appointment, so would you be able to do Friday instead? Same time." Standing up faster in my chair than I ought to, I nod my head, already making a B-line for the door. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yes, ma'am, thank you for your time. See you next week on Friday." I don't even wait for her final goodbye as I hurry through the door and into the dull-looking waiting room. Licking my lips for the 10th time today, I turn a sharp corner only to be hit in the chest by another. </p>
<p>"Oh crap, I'm sorry, you alright?" I ask in a rush. </p>
<p>"Yeah, all good. Didn't mean to bump into ya." He gives me a hundred dollar smile. Dropping his eyes to the ground, the male bends down before standing to his towering height that would be a head taller than Derek. "Here, you dropped this," He hands me my purse.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh yeah, thanks." I take the black bag out of his hands, his fingertips brushing against the back of my hand, sending a phantom-like voltage through me. I thanked the man one last time, scurry past him, and jog to the red sedan that Derek was waiting in. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>~~*~~</p>
<p>The car ride is quiet, save for the pitter latter of rain hitting the metal roof as we drive on the motorway back home. </p>
<p>"Somethin's wrong." Derek glances my way. "What'd she say?"</p>
<p>Sucking air in through my teeth, I blink. "Nothin' wrong. I talked about my work, our wedding, and then Mum." From the corner of my eyes, I can see Derek make a face at the last comment. He never was the biggest fan of her, and I can't totally blame him for it.</p>
<p>Now, don't get me wrong here, I love my Mum, not as much as others, mind you but enough. Having a mother who would always watch over you with every little thing you did was more than tiresome. You couldn't do a thing without being seen, heard, or watched. Everything I did, Mum knew about whether I liked it or not. The woman didn't know what personal space was. If I snuck out of class, she knew about it; if I talked with a boy, she knew, if I took a different path on my way back home, my mother always knew about it. It was helicopter parenting but on a newly founded level.</p>
<p>"She's not all that bad, y'know. Just...you have to work your way around her. She asked you how you were doing, by the way."</p>
<p>Derek cocked an eyebrow, his gaze momentarily fixing on me before going back to the road. "And?"</p>
<p>"Annnnnd I said you were doing good, told her that you were excited about the wedding, stressed out from work and some other bits. Nothing much really."</p>
<p>All Derek does is hum in acknowledgment as he turns off the motorway and to a more secluded part of the area. Drifting my eyes to the side mirror, I watch as a dark truck turns off with us. </p>
<p>"Weird," I whisper.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hm?" </p>
<p>"That truck," I gestured my head behind us, "It's been following us for almost ten miles. Freaky. Think they're following us, do you think?" I halfheartedly joke. Twisting my body, I watch the dark green ford follow behind us. I can't see much but the faint outline of two bodies in the front. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"What? No, don't be stupid, Y/N." Derek laughed with a wave of his hand. "They probably want to get home just as we do, don't cha' think?" </p>
<p>Watching the from the side mirror, they soon indicate left, turning off the main road and down a different one.</p>
<p>"Seeeee?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, yeah, alright. You were right; I was wrong." </p>
<p>"Always am, baby." He grins from ear to ear.</p>
<p>This time I laugh, "You only think you're right. Haven't you heard the phrase: 'happy wife happy life' at all?"</p>
<p>Playfully rolling his eyes, he shook his head. "Yeah, yeah..."</p>
<p>~~*~~</p>
<p>The man pulled off from the red sedan, driving past a quaint little neighborhood before turning left into more of the darker and rural areas. The houses got less nice by the minute. No longer the typical suburbs home with a white picket fence, instead he drove through houses with police tape crossed on doors, dogs running up to a chain fence barring their teeth, petrol stations, and houses barred up with iron bars or wooden slabs. People hid in alleyways, exchanging anything from drugs or sex.</p>
<p>Taking a hand off the steering wheel, he ran a hand through his greasy hair, God he was in desperate need of a shower. He smelt a mix of sweat, blood, and smoke.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Remind me why we are doing this again. Is it even worth it anymore?" The driver grumbles, his knuckles going white from the deadly tight grip he held onto the steering wheel.</p>
<p>"Yes. And you know why," The passenger huffs, turning his head to the dead looking driver. "If we continue to do this, he'll owe us a favour in the future." The driver's scowl turns up into the slightest of smirks. </p>
<p>Yeah, it was fucking worth it. The man had a sick power rush when he saw her check behind her back every other second. He loved it, especially when she didn't leave her home for one full week once. Even then, he would catch her peeking out the windows. He loved how she jolted when his hand grazed hers back in the lobby area. It was like she knew something was off, but the flags hadn't started waiving yet. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"How long?" Even though it's was such a vague question coming from his friend -a term that was used loosely- the male knew what the other meant. "I wouldn't give it long, Hoodie. Another few weeks at max. Eyeless'll toy with her for a little longer before sliting her fucking stomach open." He says with a honey sickened voice, his posture relaxing into the chair with a sly grin. </p>
<p>Though Hoodie wouldn't say it out loud, he could see Masky had infatuated with the little H/C woman. But nowhere near the sick lust filled obsession the Eyeless bastard had. Yeah, both Hoodie and Masky knew about Eyeless's impulse to the little mess of a woman. It was Hoodie and Masky who caught him sneaking out of the couple's home. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Really? Breaking into homes, I see? In broad daylight as well. Don't you have a pair of fucking steel balls on you, huh Eyeless?"</p>
<p>The Eyeless man only scoffed. "Still a pawn in faceless' hands, hm? There's a reason I don't bend under his thumb."</p>
<p>"Oh, really now?" Masky laughed. "Last I fuckin' remember is that you still seek shelter in his woods. If that doesn't count as working for him, I don't know what the hell does." Masky took a step towards EJ, both being eye level with one another. You physically could see what was going on in their minds—blood lust.</p>
<p>"What were you doing in there, Eyeless Jack?" Hoodie was the one to speak now, breaking up a fight that hasn't even started yet but soon will.</p>
<p>EJ turned his head to the hooded male, the gun handle poking out of his holster, holding dried blood. "Does it matter to you? I don't speak to you lot." The tension the air held was high and painful. The three of them just loving it.</p>
<p>With a swift kick to the back, the Eyeless male stumbled and knelt to the floor from the surprise attack.</p>
<p>"Well fuck-fuck me gently with a-a chainsaw." </p>
<p>EJ looked up through the holes in his mask to see the unwelcome visitor as he glared at what the twitching boy held. "Jackie-wacky, puddin’, and pie. Kissed the girls till he made them cry.” He sang, twirling the woman's underwear with his finger. “Fuck, I-I knew you were a creepy bas-bastard Eyeless, but this? Never really  p-pegged you the ty-type to do somethin' like this." </p>
<p>Ignoring the first comment, EJ grew irritated by the second. "Give it back, Toby, now." </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Or-or what? Gunna, go tell fa-faceless that you're suh-seeing a human woman? Ohhh~ I bet he'll just enjoy that, yeah?" </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm not seeing anyone." </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh really? Then please, tell us all why you've got that bitches underwear?" That was it. In a fast and final movement, EJ jumped from his spot, throwing Masky to a dead tree that stood behind him, digging his sharp claws into the smokers' shoulders. EJ spat out, "I dare you to say that again." </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Grinning from under his mask, Masky let out a choked laugh. "See? That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Pushing the male away, he rolled his bloodied shoulders. "So, Eyeless, as to not tell Faceless of your....little obsession of the human woman. I think it is only fair that you owe us for not telling him or, y'know, killing her, hm?"</p>
<p>"What, you're blackmailing me now?" EJ growled.</p>
<p>"Oh, no. this is a fucking promise." </p>
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